LONG AGO SHE'D LEARNED how to read alicent's expressions. it's so familiar now it feels like breathing, to see regret flash by in the other's woman's eyes, blurry through her own tears. the ache is like a physical thing deep in her chest. no one but alicent has elicited this sort of emotion from her -- not sorrow, not grief, but nostalgia. a longing for a past she could not return to. no matter how many years passed, she could still taste alicent's skin as if it were right up against her nose again, can still feel the warmth of her breath and she thinks being burned alive by a dragon might be less painful.
she knows it's for the better. that doesn't make it hurt any less.
she is still studying alicent's expression when the other woman pulls closer, taking her hand. it's as though they're back in time now, with alicent's thumb gently brushing against the scar she'd given her, something close to hope floating in the air between them. rhaenyra is weakened, and she can no longer hold back the tears at the edge of her eyelids, allowing them to spill over. it tastes like salt and she wishes she could feel nothing at all. her hands are not her own, gripping alicent's in return, turning it over until they're holding hands.
alicent stutters on her name and her own lips unwillingly part, wanting to say her name right back. come with me again, she wants to say. journey with me on dragonback and let's leave this all behind.
but the weight of her own duty overwhelms her. she knows she cannot, and her own desires do not matter. perhaps long ago she would've run away, but now her feet are rooted to the ground here. she has never really hated it until now. she's always accepted it. but a part of her, louder than ever, roars at the idea of escaping.
it was all she ever wanted.
"safe refuge," she repeats, her words sounding foreign on her own lips. she sort of wants to scream at her, to demand why in the world she thinks that she deserves to escape all of this when she can't. the anger, though, is misplaced, and softened by the touch of their hand. she feels herself trembling. she isn't sure she could spill the anger out of her even if she tried. her eyes flicker down, looking at their intertwined hands, and she wonders. "you desire to rid yourself of all of this," she continues, finally looking back up at her. her voice is a shaken, vulnerable thing, and she's grateful that her own guards know to keep a distance right now. "wash your hands clean of a war begun by your own kin. you think yourself above consequence."
but here she is, the alicent she'd known so long ago. her words are hurting, a pain she cannot rid of. the hand holding alicent's pulls her in, acting without thinking, until they are mere inches apart. "and what of myself, alicent?" she knows she'll need to take aegon's head, she'll need to take the throne by force. is alicent going to try and stop her? she opens her mouth to say that, but something else comes out. "i -- where would you go?"
